


Power Puff Boys

by theangryotter



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Freddie Mercury Lives, Friends to Lovers, Growing Old Together, Growing Up Together, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, It's basically just Freddie and Rog, M/M, but warning: character death i don't want to spoil anything, ok smh I can't be bothered with more tags just read it, the others are minor characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17581064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryotter/pseuds/theangryotter
Summary: Roger and Freddie were four when they met in the sandpit when Freddie barely managed to stop the other boy from eating cat poop thinking it was a fun sized Snickers bar. Needless to say, a friendship between the two was quickly formed.





	Power Puff Boys

**Author's Note:**

> I co wrote this fic years ago with my friend in another fandom but I think it fits quite well for Roger and Freddie, I hope you enjoy this growing up fic!

Roger and Freddie were four when they met in the sandpit when Freddie barely managed to stop the other boy from eating cat poop thinking it was a fun sized Snickers bar. Needless to say, a friendship between the two was quickly formed.

 

The time came when the two of them had to go to elementary school, thankfully they were enrolled in the same class. The first day the boys walked into the big yellow building, their fingers were interlocked and their shoulders bumping into one another’s. Roger was confident and sure of himself, but Freddie wasn’t feeling quite as good about the whole situation, he was afraid of the mean kids from the playground. But with Roger shielding him from all the bad in the world, Freddie was feeling protected. And although children teased them and made fun of them for being different, they stuck together. They always stuck together.

 

When Freddie turned nine, no one showed up to his birthday party. Except Roger. Freddie’s mom had baked his favourite chocolate cake and decorated it with a picture of _The Powerpuff Girls_ , Roger’s mother bought dozens of balloons and dispersed them around the house. Even Doris, his cat, was being less annoying for this special event. He drew pictures of Bubbles, his favourite character in the cartoon, and stuck them on the walls of the living room. He invited all the girls and boys from his class, for three o’clock sharp, but no one came. Apart from Roger. Since Freddie received a brand new _Playstation 2_ (which they weren’t supposed to use for the party as his mom didn’t want the other children to break it) he was allowed to use it considering only Roger was present. The boys ate _The_ _Powerpuff_ _Girls_ cake and filled their bellies with other junk. They played _The_ _Powerpuff Girls_ video game, which Roger had given to him because their mothers had planned it beforehand.

 

At the age of thirteen, Freddie’s stomach was filled with butterflies every time his gaze met Roger’s. His skin would get slightly warmer at every accidental feel of Roger’s touch. It was no longer acceptable for them to walk around with their fingers interlocked, and it was becoming more and more rare that Roger would let him hold his hand under their shared desk. Roger didn’t need to have Freddie be bullied because of him anymore; for he was convinced that it was his fault that people called his best friend a ' _sissy_ ’ and a ‘ _faggot_.’ Freddie was afraid that if he pushed Roger any more, he would no longer be his Roggie.

 

Roger was getting ready for a date, his hands were clammy and his breathing ragged when he called Freddie over to help him; he was trying to fasten the tie but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to do it. They were fifteen. Freddie showed up at his house within a few minutes, he expected to find Roger in actual trouble. He was besides himself when he found out that Roger had stressed him out because he couldn’t fucking dress himself. As well as this, while Freddie was doing the knot, Roger wouldn’t shut up about the date he had planned for the night. The other boy just sighed in defeat.

 

Sixteen year old Roger was growing increasingly confused about what his definition of happiness was. Freddie would hurt every single time he saw Roger holding a girl’s hand. Roger’s head was all over the place and he faced the same dilemma every day. Only that, at sixteen, he never really wanted to know. He didn’t want to stand out. He noticed that Freddie standing out put the boy into bad light and it _scared_ him. Roger started sleeping around with numerous different types of girls, trying so hard to be into them. He wanted to let everyone know that he was a _ladies_ man. _Why couldn’t he just fit the norm?_ Freddie couldn’t bear hearing Roger’s stories. The two best friends started drifting further and further apart. Until Freddie couldn’t take it anymore and he screamed and shouted at the boy. He didn’t explain his anger.

 

Turning nineteen, Roger was finally content. His boyfriend’s arms were wrapped around him tightly as the boy left hickeys on his neck. But it wasn’t Freddie, they hadn’t spoken for weeks. Freddie always seemed off and Roger didn’t care to push it enough, or rather he was too busy with the hands of someone else.

 

Freddie’s twenty first birthday rolled around, but Roger forgot. The two only awkwardly greeted each when they passed one another in the streets. _Roger never forgot his birthdays before_. Freddie was crushed and celebrated his birthday by himself in a dirty strip club, nursing a bottle of vodka and barely glancing up from the bar. He lost his virginity that night, wanting to forget the blue eyes and soft hands that still haunted his nights and days. But it didn’t feel right, it could never feel right. So as his shitty digital clock alarmed him at 6am for another shitty day of working at a cheap ass fast food restaurant, he didn’t put on his lousy yellow uniform on. Instead, he picked up his least crumpled shirt off the floor and threw it on angrily. Because he was angry, and he was sick of bottling everything up. He was just as angry as he battered Roger’s window with all the stuff he’d ever given him. The shirt he had given him for his fourteenth birthday, the Jimi Hendrix poster he had given him for his fifteenth birthday and all the stuffed poodles and cats, _The Powerpuff Girls_ video game. He was just as angry as he screamed at Roger that all he ever cared about was him. _Why couldn’t he see that?_ And, finally, he was just as angry as he pushed their lips together in a feisty kiss.

 

In their twenty third year of a shared life, more or less, the two of them moved in together into an apartment in the same city as they grew up in. The two slowly learned how to accept each other’s flaws and different habits. They learned how different they were but also how much time they missed of loving each other. Because they had, and Roger wasn’t scared to admit it anymore. It was also the year they leaned against each other as they cried after the phone call came from Freddie’s mother telling them that Doris had passed away. Roger couldn’t stand Freddie’s tears, he hated when Freddie wasn’t feeling like himself and decided to adopt a kitten for Christmas, he put a shiny red bow around it’s neck and let it crawl over Freddie’s sleeping body during the cold winter morning. Roger allowed Freddie to name it, much to the other boy’s delight. Of course, he should’ve known better than let him do it because he could never say _Bubbles_ in an angry way when he was mad at the cat.

 

On a hot summer’s evening, with Freddie frying inside, Roger decided to put his two month old plan to work. They were twenty six years old and Roger couldn’t wait any longer. On his way to work, he stuffed his bag and dragged it around with him all day; his back aching, but it was worth it. On the way back from work, he was finally able to unpack the damn thing, throwing each and every thing that was remotely related to Freddie on their street view window. Apart from Bubbles. _Sugar, spice, and everything nice_ _._ Roger was about to chuck a rubber duck at the glass before Freddie quickly lifted it to scream at him. He heard Roger saying the words, stood under the window like Romeo for Juliet. _These were the ingredients chosen, to create the perfect little boy_ _._ Freddie narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend, silently scolding him but allowing him to speak. _But your mother and father accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction_ _._ Roger looked up at Freddie, his heart pounding. _Chemical X, thus, Farrokh was born._ Gasping, Freddie covered his mouth with his hand at Roger’s actions. _Using their ultra-super powers Freddie, Roger, and Bubbles,_ the boy was now getting on one knee as Freddie’s eyes glistened, threatening to spill, _Have dedicated their lives to fighting crime and the forces of evil._ Freddie leaned over the window, it wasn’t high up and he could easily hold his hand out. _Because, hey, fuckface, I love you and you said you love me too. Be my husband?_ Freddie almost choked back on his tears, his body shaking slightly, as much as he tried to compose himself he couldn’t. When he reached out for Roger and the boy slipped the diamond ring onto his finger, he couldn’t even blurt out a response. He nodded furiously as Roger lifted him out of the window, arms wrapped tightly around him.

 

Twenty eight year old Roger was pacing around the dressing room, he shouldn’t have been this nervous but, oh God, he _was_. His tie was wrapped around his forehead like a bandana; he still didn’t know how to tie a tie and was freaking out, Freddie was always there to do it for him, but he was a firm believer in _not seeing each other on the wedding day,_ so he wasn’t much help. Brian, the couple’s best friend, was running late and Roger was internally screaming. A frazzled looking Brian managed to make it barely in time before the ceremony started and fussed over Roger’s sweaty forehead and undid the knot. There was no sight more beautiful to Roger than Freddie fucking Mercury walking down the aisle in that moment. The flashing smile on Roger’s face made the butterflies from eighth grade come back to him a thousand time stronger. And even though the day went not quite as expected - the after party wasn’t half as glamorous as planned - they still had the time of their life. With John toasting one too many times and Brian sobbing on his shoulder as ‘their babies got married’ and some of Phoebe passing out (from an intense game of _Just Dance_ ) under the table. However, the day, over all, ended up creating fond memories and showed a positive start to their future together. They both knew that they were going to reminisce the disaster until their last days.

 

When Freddie turned twenty nine, he looked at his little family consisting of Roger and Bubbles. They were more than enough for him, but he found himself wanting another member. He found himself more and more drawn to baby clothes every time they went to the mall and his thoughts were consumed by the idea of having Roger hold _their_ child. One day, when Roger was out, his finger unconsciously pressed on the foster home advert. Another day, Freddie ordered from his husband’s favourite takeout place before sitting Roger down with him, dropping the big question.

 

At thirty one Freddie finally got to carry his baby girl into their, child improved, apartment with Roger carrying endless amounts of shopping bags full of diapers, frilly dresses and a set of sippy cups which Freddie set his eyes on and was desperate to have because they had _The Powerpuff Girls_ on them. After a long, two year process of the adoption. With the torture of countless phone calls and endless hours of people checking on them behind them it was satisfying to invite all their friends and family members to the child's welcome party. The, one year old, girl was gorgeous. With her blue eyes and short, thin, inky curls she could almost pass as their biological daughter. And they promised each other to always put her first, no matter what.

 

But then again, Roger was bad at keeping promises and he might've forgotten to tell Freddie that the little girl's first nativity play was on that day. They were both thirty six, sprinting up the stairs of the school's auditorium just as the girl was starting her first line. Her parents were cheering and Roger had his phone out in no time, filming it for his mom who had to miss it, and Brian who was doing a show in Brazil. The little girl was surrounded by love, just as they said they would raise her.

 

No matter how much love the eight year old Daisy got at home, it didn't mean the world felt the same way. The thirty eight year olds weren’t prepared for that. The trio was taking a relaxing afternoon walk in the park. Daisy loved to chat with other children and, seeing many on the play park, she instantly began tugging on her daddy's sleeve. Freddie ended up joining her in the sandpit, building a sand castle whilst other kids joined in. Neither he or Roger, who was watching from the bench, noticed the sideways glances they were receiving from other parents in the supposed leisure place. Through their entire lives they had experienced homophobia in the most unexpected places, but a playground at a park was far beyond anything they ever considered. It was supposed to be a safe space for children. As Freddie perched a flag on top of their castle, for he was having more fun with it all than the eight year olds, he could make out a few whispers behind him. At first he chose to ignore them, but when one of the mothers gripped her son and told him, quietly, that he wasn't allowed to play with Daisy, _to not play with the faggot’s daughter,_ Freddie lost his shit.

 

It was when they were forty five and their daughter was at school when Freddie sprinted downstairs flailing his arms and screaming as he pointed to his head. Roger was more than confused when he had to scoop his husband up in his arms, stroking his back affectionately. Roger had to take ten minutes to calm the hysterical Fred before he could make out a single word. _I have a grey hair Roger. A grey hair?!_ It was only then they both realised they weren’t so young anymore.

 

Even at the age of fifty four they still managed to always run late to Daisy’s, actually important, life events. Roger, of course, still didn’t know how to tie a tie and Freddie always fussed telling Roger that _he had to learn a basic knot at some point_ _._ But Roger always just brushed it off and smiled cheekily, asking _why he would need to learn when he had Freddie?_ The two made it just in time before the graduation started and hurried towards the seats Brian and Anita were saving for them near the front. Freddie rested his palm on Roger’s, rubbing it gently with his thumb, as Roger’s eyes threatened to spill at any moment. The pride they felt was overwhelming and, as Daisy received her diploma, they stood up and cheered and gave her a thumbs up; _she was their little girl and she was all grown up._

 

When they met at the age of four they wouldn’t have believed that in their fifty eighth year they would be holding their grandchild. The baby was so tiny and fragile, Roger was afraid he could break her the first time she was placed in his arms. Freddie, of course, thought it was appropriate to give their grandson a _Powerpuff Girls_ bodysuit to welcome him into the family, Freddie and Rog style.

 

As they got older, Freddie said _I love you_ more frequently. They were seventy years old and the light Freddie had about him was slowly fading, though Roger didn’t notice it at first. Freddie had accepted the grey hairs and wrinkles. He had accepted the passing of his youth which he never wanted to do. But Roger was by his side, with his grey hairs and wrinkles and it was _okay_. It was okay to grow old.

 

Seventy six year old Roger was woken up in the middle of the night with Freddie struggling to breathe, the two rushed to the nearest hospital and ended up staying there for two weeks, the nurses ran various tests over the years, trying to find what was happening to his body, but never did.

 

At seventy nine Freddie couldn’t put his feet on the ground independently anymore, Roger wheeled him around the city they had lived in for their whole life. With memories on every corner they turned, which Freddie would point out and tell stories to Roger about the things that happened. He’d tell him stories Roger lived himself; the ones they experienced together, but he listened intently anyway. Walking past the playground they met in was the longest. Freddie recalled everything that happened that day, as much as his memory allowed him, and even added a few things extra. Roger didn’t mind.

 

Roger never felt this kind of pain in his life. It wasn’t the sciatica he developed over the years and it wasn’t anything like getting braces in ninth grade. Eighty two year old Roger was looking into the mirror, eyes red and puffy, attempting to twist the tie on his neck to look at least moderately presentable. His face was scarlet and cheeks tear stained, and with all the frustration of not being able to do this one thing by himself flowing inside him, he threw the tie to the other corner of the room. _Why he would need to learn when he had Freddie?_ The funeral was in a couple of hours and Daisy convinced him that she would drive as his vision wasn’t as good as it used to be. His hair wasn’t as thick and strong, his arms not as muscular and tanned and the glow from his face was gone. The beam of light he would faded completely. _Freddie faded._

 

_Roger met Freddie in a sandpit. Roger loved Freddie every moment. Roger watched Freddie being lowered into the ground._

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic please leave a comment and a kudos it would mean so much to me! This is my first Queen fic and I would really enjoy some prompts for more Freddie/Roger because I love this pair! Thanks for reading <3


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